A Little Lebowski
by uncoveror
Summary: 19 Years after the movie, The Dude learns that he has a daughter. She has always wanted to meet him, but her mother said no. After they get to know each other a little, she gives The Dude a gift that really touches his heart.
1. Chapter 1

**Preface**

A lot of fans of The Big Lebowski wish there could be a sequel, but the story just doesn't seem to lend itself to that, and I don't think the Coen Brothers do sequels. I have kicked around the idea of writing a piece of fanfic for a while about The Dude's child

Roughly 19 years after the movie, The Dude's daughter finally finds her father, about whom she was always curious. As soon as she was 18 and Maude could not tell her "no", she hired a detective: the same one who drove the VW in the movie. Between the few things she knew and his work, she found that a man with the same name as her grandfather is coincidently her father, though not related to him.

I decided to make her a girl, because a girl would care more about the father she never knew until adulthood, and would be more likely to want to do something for him than a son. That is my opinion, anyway.

So here goes. An imagined meeting between The Dude, and the daughter he conceived with Maude.

**A Little Lebowski **

**By Uncoveror**

Disclaimer: I do not own The Big Lebowski, or any of the characters in it. Those belong to Joel and Ethan Coen, and the film studios they work with. No copyright infringement is intended. I hope you enjoy this story. If you have never seen The Big Lebowski, it is full of spoilers. I recommend watching the movie first.

Artemisia Lebowski , the daughter and only child of the somewhat renowned feminist artist Maude Lebowski, had always wondered about her father. Whenever she tried to ask about him, her mother refused to talk about it. "You're my baby, darling! Not some man's" was her standard answer. She had been named after Artemisia Gentileschi, a female artist from Renaissance Italy who actually broke into the boys club; the first woman ever accepted into the Accademia delle Arti del Disegno.

Once she was eighteen, it was no longer something that her mother was in charge of, so Artemisia hired a detective, a man named DaFino, to find her father. Based on some clues gleaned from Maude's art friends after they had been drinking, she had a little bit of information for him to go on. Between that and his own hunch, it didn't take him long to find The Dude. They had crossed paths before.

It took several attempts before The Dude would return DeFino's call, but a meeting was arranged. Even if she only got to meet him once, even if it did not go well, Artemisia would finally get to meet her father. They met at his apartment one evening when both had plenty of free time. Once he had introduced the two, DaFino got back into the classic VW beetle he still owned, and drove away.

"Hi, I am Artemisia. Maude Lebowski is my mother. Do you remember her?" "Yeah," The Dude Replied, "My name is Jeffrey Lebowski, but nobody calls me that. It's Dude or The Dude to all my friends." Artemisia wondered if it were more than just coincidence that this man bore the same name as her grandfather, but The Dude assured her it was only that.

"I would like to know how you met my mother. She never would tell me anything beyond that you are not an anonymous donor from a sperm bank, and that she did spend one night with you, and that one night was all she wanted." The dude shook his head a bit, and laughed quietly. After a long pause, he began to speak. "That is a long, crazy, convoluted story, man! I don't think you would believe it if I told you." This did not discourage her. Artemisia insisted that she wanted to hear it, and would listen to all of it without being judgmental.


	2. Chapter 2

"Before we start talking, would you like something to drink? I like White Russians, but I guess you aren't old enough for that. I've got some house brand sodas and diet sodas form Ralph's." She took a diet lemon lime soda.

It all started one evening when I went shopping for a bottle of half and half. I had a discount club card for Ralph's so I went there. I opened a carton to smell and taste it a bit before I bought it. I'd gotten some sour stuff that ruined my drink once. To put it in a time frame, the clerk at the checkout had a TV, and President Bush was talking about the war in Iraq. The First Bush, not his son. I never did get to use that carton of half and half.

When I got back to my apartment, I had walked halfway through the living room before noticing two men were in there. One was a dumb looking blond guy, and the other was a Chinaman with a flattop buzz cut, or excuse me, an Asian-American with a buzz cut. My friend, Walter told me not to say Chinaman.

That blond guy grabbed me by the back of the head and ran me into the bathroom. I dropped my half and half, and it splattered all over the wall. The asshole dunked my head into the toilet twice calling me "Lebowski", and demanding money he said I owed to someone named Jackie Treehorn. To say the least, I was confused. My name was indeed Jeffrey Lebowski, but no one calls me Lebowski, I'm The Dude. While I tried to argue with the blond guy, the other one pissed on my rug! That rug wasn't a genuine Persian rug or anything, but I liked it. It really tied the room together. Once they got it that I was not the Jeff Lebowski whose wife owed gangsters money, they left mad without even apologizing. You can't just throw a rug like that in a washer, it was ruined.

After trying to wrap my head around what had happened, it was time for my bowling league with my best friends, Walter and Donny. I told them about it, and Walter got just as mad as if it was his rug they ruined, no, madder than that! He didn't want to hear that there was nothing I can do. There was a millionaire with the same name as me, whose wife Bunny, owed gangsters a lot of money. This man owed me a rug. He was really insistent that I confront the man.

"So, my grandfather was who they wanted, and one of his bimbos was the source of it all?" she asked. "Yeah, that's how it was. I actually met her once when I went to see your grand dad trying to get my rug replaced." The Dude didn't mention how Bunny had propositioned him, or her grandfather's servant boy, Brandt. A lady would not want to hear of such things, and his daughter seemed like a nice lady.

So anyway, when I went to see The Big Lebowski to get my rug back, he got all mad, insisting that it had nothing to do with him, and he even called me a bum. I wasn't about to leave with nothing, so when Brandt asked me how it went, I told him that his boss said I can just pick any old rug in the house, and take it, so he helped me with that. I took a red one. It was bigger than my old rug, but I was glad to have something. It turned out later that your real grandmother, not Bunny, had given that rug to your mother, and she wanted it back. One night she and two big scary looking dudes showed up at my apartment looking really pissed off. I had been half asleep on that rug. They woke me up just for one of those goons to knock me out again with a punch to the jaw. When I came to, the rug was gone.

"Now hold on," Artemisia shouted, "After having men assault you, and taking back the rug, the two of you ended up having a child together. How could that be?" "I tried to tell you," said The Dude, "It is a long, convoluted story that you might not believe, but I will get to that."


	3. Chapter 3

Before I even met your mother, Brant had been calling again and again. I figured that all they wanted was the rug back, so I ignored the calls until they left a message insisting that it was not about the rug, and Big Lebowski wanted to see me again. Bunny had been kidnapped, and the kidnappers wanted a million dollars. He wanted me to take it to them, because I could tell him whether it was the rug pissers who did it or not. He offered me a big load of money if I agreed, and his story seemed plausible at the time, so I took the gig. He gave me a beeper, and told me that they would call when they needed me again.

On the next bowling night, I told Walter and Donny about it, and Walter went off again, insisting that he be the driver. His plan was that we would give the kidnappers a fake bag. He was convinced that the whole thing was a scam and that she was not in any danger. I had thought that too, but I harbored some doubts. I was convinced that I was wrong later when your grandfather and his errand boy presented me with a severed little toe with the same color nail polish Bunny wore. I was then terrified that I had sent an innocent girl to her death. Your grand dad told me that he knew I had the money, and that the gangsters would be after me now. To make it all worse, my car had been stolen, and that's where the real briefcase was. I didn't know it at the time, but there was nothing but phone books in that case.

Almost as soon as I got home, three Germans claiming that they were nihilists, and that they had Bunny showed up while I was trying to take a bath. They smashed things, and threw a damn marmot into my tub. They told me they would be back for the cash, and not only would they kill Bunny, but would also cut off my little friend if I did not comply. Walter was convinced that they were lying at our next bowling night, but I was really scared! Donny didn't seem to understand it, but Walter shushed him saying that he should have listened the first time, and it was his fault if he was confused. He did that to Donny a lot.

"Wait a minute," Artemisia again interrupted, "I still don't understand what my mother has to do with all of this!" "Sorry," said The Dude, I was coming to that. I may not be telling you these things in the order they happened, because it was nineteen years ago, and I am known to smoke some weed. My memory isn't always clear. I think I need to go back to my car being stolen.

I called the cops to report that my car had been stolen, that my tape deck, my Credence, and my briefcase were in it at the time. I also mentioned that the red rug had been stolen. That confused them. I had to explain that it was not in the car, but stolen from my apartment. While I was trying to describe it, the phone rang, and I let it go to the answering machine. It was your mother, who explained that she took the rug, and would like to meet me to offer me something. She was insistent. That solved the problem of the rug, but not my car, which was eventually found with the driver's side door smashed, a really nasty smell in it, and no briefcase. Well, anyway, let's get back to your mother.

When I went to her studio, she was painting something while swinging from a harness buck naked. She got green paint on my head! She came down from there and put on a robe. For a while, I couldn't understand what she was getting at, and thought she might be trying to pick me up. She apologized for my jaw, and insisted that I see some doctor she knew. I told her it was fine, but she would not let it rest, so I stopped arguing and took his business card. She told me that your grand dad had no money that was really his, and that the million belonged to a charitable foundation her mother had started. Your Grandma was the one who had money and ran businesses. Your mom told me that she knew he had embezzled that million from the charity, but did not want to call the police on her own father. She hoped I could get it back for her. She offered me some of it for my trouble. By then, I thought I knew where the money was. Some kid's homework had been left in my car. Walter found him, and we went over there. We were so sure he had the money because a new red Corvette was parked in front of his house. When the kid played ignorant, Walter flew off the handle, and smashed the hell out of that car. Turns out, it wasn't the kid's at all. The real owner came out of the next house over and started screaming at Walter, then started smashing out all the glass on my car. Donny ran away scared. We eventually all got out of that alive, but I was mad at Walter for a long time. I soon started to think that there was no money in that case to start with. Your grand dad was tired of Bunny owing money to the likes of Jackie Treehorn, and wanted the kidnappers to off her, if there actually were any. He could then claim that I lost the million that was never in the briefcase to start with; pin it all on the bum.


	4. Chapter 4

The Dude noticed that his daughter was out of soda, and his drink was gone too, so he stopped. "Let me get you another lemon lime, and I will get a cola. I will try to fit in where your mother comes into all this, because I can see that you are getting frustrated again." "Thank you," said Artemisia, "I was getting thirsty. It sounds like your friend Walter really has a temper." "That he does. He has been in jail, and in court ordered counseling at the VA for his short fuse. He was in Vietnam, and there are things that happened there that really haunt him. He tries to connect everything in the world to that even when they are not related, and gets all bent out of shape. I think he is calming down as he gets older, though."

"How about Donny?" The dude paused, and looked sad, then spoke. "Sadly, Donny is no longer with us. When those damn Germans showed up demanding money even though they did not have Bunny to start with, Donny was really scared. He was willing to give them all the cash he had on him, but Walter said no." A sudden look of concern appeared on young Artemisia's face.

Walter hit one of them in the chest with his bowling ball, and then he wrestled with another one, biting off his ear like Mike Tyson. I swung my ball at the third guy as a warning, but he kept coming at me, so I hit him for real. When we turned around, we saw Donny on the ground, grabbing his chest. He was having a heart attack. Walter stayed with him while I went to call 911, but it was too late. Donny died right there in the parking lot of the bowling alley. He had no family, so Walter and I went to pick up his ashes. Walter got really upset when they wanted us to pay a lot of money for an urn, when we were going to spread his ashes. After what could have been a very ugly scene, we went to Ralphs, bought a can of Folgers's, dumped the coffee, and used that can to take his ashes. We went to a beach where Donny used to surf. Walter started to give a good sermon for Donny, but he had to bring Vietnam into it. Donnie was never over there. It had nothing to do with him! When Walter spread the ashes, the wind blew back at us, and Donny's remains blew all over me. I was mad, and he thought that was why, but it was the Vietnam thing. Why did he always have to bring that up?

Now back to your mother. She called me again, and asked why I had not seen her doctor yet. She really insisted that I needed to, so I agreed. It was my jaw that was injured, so when he wanted me to pull my pants down, I had no idea why. After a little arguing, I just let it be. A few days later, I came home to my apartment to find that either Treehorn's goons or the Germans had smashed it up real bad. Jackie Treehorn, the gangster pornographer Bunny owed money to, and the nihilists who claimed that they had her, both thought I had the money. They never knew that it was only phone books in that briefcase. I tripped over a booby trap that I had left there, landed flat on my back, looked up, and there was Maude. She was wearing nothing but my bathrobe, which she promptly dropped and said, "Jeffrey, love me." That was the night we were together. We talked for a while after that, I fired up a roach from my last jay and smoked it until it was gone. I almost swallowed it. I needed a drink after that, so I made a White Russian. Your mother was doing some yoga, and I asked her about it. She told me that it increased the chance of conception. I was so shocked that I spit my drink!

Your mother went on to tell me that she only wanted a baby, not a partner, and that no one she might see again socially would be right for that. She wanted someone she would never see again, and I haven't ever seen her again. Only then did that doctor's test make any sense. That was the point of it. I guess she got what she wanted, 'cause here you are. There is more to this crazy story if you wanted to hear it, but the part about your mother is done. You know, I think you are only the second person I have ever told this story to. The first was an old cowboy who was at the bowling alley a few times when we were. He liked Sarsaparillas a lot. He seemed to like the story. I wonder what ever happened to him. Did I tell you that you hired the same detective who was trying to find Bunny nineteen years ago? Her real name was Fawn Knusten. She had run away from home, and her parents wanted her to come back. Good luck with that!


	5. Conclusion

After The Dude had told her his story, there was really nothing more to say. They exchanged some pleasantries and said their goodbyes. Artemisia called herself a cab. On the ride home, she thought about all she had heard. Never once had she gone bowling. It was not anything that Maude or her circle of art friends would have ever cared about. She was going to try it. She was very happy that she had finally met her father, but doubted that they would ever develop a relationship. Several days went by, and little Lebowski decided she wanted to give her father a gift. She was afraid if she showed up to present it face to face, he wouldn't be willing to accept gifts, so she would have it delivered to him. She knew just the thing.

A Delivery truck pulled up in front of The Dude's apartment a little more than a week after he had met his daughter. The driver pulled out a very big and heavy package. It was already paid for and all he had to do was sign for it. Dude had no idea what it was, or who had sent it, but he took delivery and opened it in his living room. A simple letter said, "I am glad that I met you, even if it was only once, and your story touched me. Here is a little something for you. I hope you will like it." It was signed, The Dudette.

He opened the package the rest of the way, removed that packing paper, and discovered a white oriental rug with a black design. It was a bit like the one that had been ruined so long ago, but much nicer. The Dude was moved to tears by this act of kindness. Getting his rug back was all he had ever wanted in the first place. The less rich and famous Jeffrey Lebowski moved his new treasure to the perfect spot. He looked at it, and then looked all around at everything else that was there. The Dude was happy. It really tied the room together.

The End

FYI: In case you were wondering, I did not make up Artemisia Gentileschi, the namesake for Artemisia Lebowski. She was a real renaissance painter who is an icon to female artists, and exactly the kind of figure I think Maude would have named her child after. Here are some informative links, if you would like to know more. A Wikipedia article, .org/wiki/Artemisia_Gentileschi and a documentary piece at youtube. .com/watch?v=S5qSwf-GTfs


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